Reality Is Twisted
by PallaPlease
Summary: Longer version of 'Futile Love.'  A bit rough around the edges and somewhat grimace-worthy, but it's pleasant enough.  [Complete]


Reality Is Twisted  
  
  
AN: And so is my mind. Okay, if anyone out there is wondering "How can she think Nightcrawler and Shadowcat make a 'cute' couple?" So shoot me, they're sure as heck playin' it off like that in X-Men Evolution. WHAT?! *sulks* I can't help it! My newest (and cutest) muse is taunting me into writing this. Stupid fuzzy blue thing *tries to grab what looks like a thumb-sized winged Nightcrawler in jeans and a tanktop* won't stay still! And no, the fact that my new muse looks like the furry (kawaii…no, wrong Japanese word…ah, dang, don't know what 'physically and mentally attractive' is in Jap.) elf-boy means absolutely nothing towards who my favorite X character is! I don't read the comics. So sue me. I watch WB and I saw the film. Both I love. So there. Read/review/undoubtedly-you-will-flame-me-so-who-bloody-well-cares?   
  
Since response to "Futile Love" was pretty darn good, here's the longer version. And SpazSailor, grumpy in the afternoon that she was, refused to help plot this. *sniffs snobbily* Fine, be that way.   
  
*  
*  
  
Infatuation.  
  
Strong word.   
  
Being different isn't all it's cracked up to be. It sucks. Everyday it kills me, drains me, turns me into something I dread. I lose hope, I lose everything…because of reality. I'm fifteen. I'm a teenage boy, madly head-over-heels-in-love with a girl I know.  
  
But I can't. She'd never accept me.  
  
I'm a freak.  
  
  
  
  
Ghosting through a metal wall without a thought, Katherine "Kitty" Pryde hugged herself with a romantic sigh. The day was perfect-she'd gotten a new Celine Dion CD, had some study-time with the object of her affection-Cyclops-and, best of all, she had the best idea for a Valentine-for Scott, of course.  
  
A backpack was hoisted on her back, its flamboyant pink color stretched by the massive contents held inside as the teenager giddily paraded through the estate's park-like gardens. Humming a tune to herself, she found her little nook.   
  
Her private area, personally granted to her by Xavier himself. Sighing with dramatic relief, she sank into the tiny wooden swing hooked onto a peaceful, concealing weeping willow's branch. This was her haven, her one place of utter refuge. Here she could escape the torture of teenage-stereotypes and the added pressure of her mutant powers. Here she was, truly, home.  
  
Pulling out a portable CD player, she inserted a-of all things she had impulsively purchased-Janet Jackson CD, pressing the random button effortlessly.  
  
A whirring sound filled her ears and she relaxed, smiling softly to herself.   
  
And then her heart constricted after a moment.  
  
Doesn't really matter  
What the eye is seeing  
'Cause I'm in love with  
The inner being  
  
Doesn't really matter  
What they believe  
What matters to me  
Is you're in love with me  
  
Slamming her finger down on the stop button, heart thudding, she stilled. Nightcrawler. He'd been so strange lately, quiet and subdued, almost as if he was depressed. Why was she feeling so worried about him? Clutching her head in confusion, she bit her lower lip. Kurt…  
  
Shaking her head frantically, Kitty stood up, spilling her book-bag and CD player unceremoniously to the ground. Running a hand through her chestnut hair, she calmed herself. It wasn't as if she liked him, right?  
  
Relieved, she gathered up her belongings and hurriedly rushed back to the mansion, and to the relative safety of her room. Along the way, she failed to notice the despairing look on the blue face of a young boy.  
  
()()  
  
Wrapping his arms around himself, tail wound tightly around his leg, Kurt Wagner curled his lips inward, forcing a pained cry back. Memories were waiting, lurking, viciously biding their time.  
  
She'll never love you.  
  
Shut-up!  
  
Freak, freak, freak, freak…  
  
I'm not a freak!  
  
Then say it, why don't you, bearded-boy?, his mind taunted him.  
  
Shivering compulsively despite the warming weather, he felt a tear streak down his face. Opening his mouth, he moved his head forward a little, unable to dislodge the words.   
  
See? Big brother Cyclops is 'cute.' You heard what she said. She'll never like you.  
  
It was absurd and impossible, but Kurt could feel a searing pain in his chest, like a flaming ache. How many times had he fought against that nagging little voice declaring it spoke the 'truth?' Too many. Before, when he'd been cast out of village and village and village, he'd been able to conquer the harshness of reality.   
  
When he saw the lovely, compassionate Kitty, he began losing the war.  
  
Kitty…  
  
Feeling a sympathetic wind whistle through his shoulder-length blue-black hair, he smiled sadly, eyes closing. Tilting his head up, he drank in the bright sunlight, t-shirt sleeves flapping gently. His demonic tail slowly unwound, resting limply on the grass-covered ground.  
  
And he smiled.  
  
()()  
  
Hanging from the ceiling by his demonic tail, Nightcrawler pursed his lips thoughtfully, clutching a pen in one hand, a pad of paper in the other. Carefully composing words mentally, the 'furry' blue mutant stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in absolute concentration.  
  
''Dear Kitty,'' he inscribed, ''I'm writing this because'…Nightcrawler paused, swinging himself up to a sitting position on the ceiling-pipe. "What to write," he muttered nervously, "what to write." Chewing the end of his pen, the young teenager mulled over his situation, oblivious to the sharp cracking sound as his teeth broke the plastic of the ink-filled writing device.  
  
When a dagger-like pain bit into his gum, Nightcrawler spat out the pieces, poking the sore spot with one finger. With a shrug, he started writing again. A smile, void of his usual mischief, appeared on his face, the horribly mangled pen moving furiously across the lined note-paper, his scribble writing covering the page rapidly, the occasional spelling error occurring.  
  
After a few moments, the German 'X-Man' smiled in satisfaction, smugly proud of his letter. Ripping it off the pad, the t-shirt/jeans clad boy popped out of existence in the room. With a dull thud and clatter, paper-pad and pen hit the floor.  
  
With a flicker of startling bright smoke, Nightcrawler transported outside Kitty's room. Swallowing nervously, he was, absurdly out of character, raising a three-fingered hand to knock, but a familiar male voice broke his thoughts.  
  
'No…'  
  
Big brother Cyclops.  
  
Undoubtedly discussing 'schoolwork' with Kitty.  
  
Unconsciously, the 'elf' clenched his hand into a fist, a spurt of anger welling inside of him. And then, unbelievably, a pervasive feeling of numb helplessness.  
  
The long-drafted letter he held became a crinkled ball of trashy uselessness.  
  
Falling from his newly-limp hand, it hit the floor silently, mute and deaf.  
  
Then Nightcrawler left.  
  
()()  
  
Letting loose broken-hearted sobs, Kitty curled into a fetal position on her bed, tears streaming from her eyes, soaking her pillow. She should have known. Scott was "too old" and "already involved" with someone else. She knew who.  
  
That slut, Jean Gray.  
  
No, she amended, she wasn't a slut, but a…well…  
  
Clutching at a torn and stained Valentine with the smeared words "I-Luv-U, Scott" written on the heart-shaped red-construction paper, she sniffled, still weeping.  
  
When slumber claimed her mind, a shadow moved forward, clothed in a dark costume. Leaning over her soft form, the 'shadow' smiled achingly. "Looks like both our hearts were broken," he whispered imperceptibly.   
  
Sitting on the edge of her bed, he stared at his gloved hands, at the two fingers and thumb on each. Words cluttered his mind, giving life to burning emotions.   
  
"Everyone," he began softly, "I ever loved has been hurt." Nightcrawler fell silent briefly. "I guess that's why I've tried to hide from humanity for so long. I've never even known my father…and every other day, I have to fight my own mother…Mein Gott, it sucks. I wake up and go to school with an inducer every day, praying it doesn't go on the fritz. I have to dread every battle because my mom might be our enemy. I don't want to ever think of hurting her."  
  
He stopped abruptly, yellow eyes clouding. "When I came to Xavier, I thought I'd be able to have human contact without feeling attached…what an idiot I've turned out to be. It was easy. I got along with everyone and Scott took me under his wing, so I felt..I dunno, normal.  
  
"Then you came. You've, somehow, managed to screw up my entire world. Just by…being. And…" Kurt stopped, feeling foolishly cliché. Turning his head slightly, he touched her cheek softly, feeling the rhythm of her breathing vibrating through her body. Without another word, he vanished with a puff of smoke and a smell of brimstone.   
  
Then, unseen, Kitty smiled in her slumber, touching her cheek in the dream.  
  
&*^broken hearts are mended by a strength that comes from within^*&  
  
End AN: Aw…nuts, that was sooooo cliché. *growls in frustration* Dang it, I swear if anyone suggests I write a "Romeo and Juliet" with Kurt and Kitty…I won't be held by any charges for irresponsible behavior. Again, this'n was set in X-Men Evolution. If, by some strange twist of life, you actually like Kurt/Kitty or Nightcrawler/Shadowcat, I HIGHLY recommend Eine Romanze fur Nightcrawler by Solitaire (and, yes, I know the two dots aren't over the u in fur, so shoot me), which just simply kicks my butt when you compare this story and Solitaire's. *siiiiigh* Oh, and I copied-and-pasted the letter sequence, that'n was originally "Futile Blow."   



End file.
